Saving Spectra
by UnpublishedWriter
Summary: A bit of background for Spectra's attacks on the Federation. Mala's experience of the attack on Anderson in 'Galaxy Girls.'
1. Chapter 1

**Saving Spectra**

Z'ólt'ár nâl Afés'trin, monarch of the Spectra Imperium, leaned against the top of the ancient palace wall, looking down at the activity in the courtyard, thinking unusually deep thoughts.

Beside him waited Mala, his half-sister by blood, full sister by the Luminous One's proclamation during her Presentation. Unlike the other adultss of the Imperial family, she let people see her face. It was a personal preference, and an acknowledgement of reality. If she wore the Imperial headgear, people would accuse her of concealing her alien heritage.

At least half the people in the courtyard were half-breeds or non-Spectran. Members of the True Race (or Species) were rare, and decreasing yearly, a legacy of a multi-millennium eugenics policy that had officially ended fifty years ago, yet still permeated the society top to bottom. Of the remaining pure-bloods, the majority were afflicted by congenital conditions, including genetic diseases. He was of pure blood, and completely healthy, but any child he got on a Spectran woman would likely be deformed, crippled, or sickly. _I am of House nâl Afés'trin. I cannot merge my seed with lesser beings._

The Luminous One had not originated the foolish eugenics programs that had diminished the True Race. It had not stopped it, either. Declaring Mala a full member of the Imperial Blood confirmed the rightness of his grandfather's decision to end the programs.

She had recently made a daring suggestion. They could save the True Race, but only if they refused to insist on 100% genetic purity (never mind the foolish selections of the past). Selective outbreeding with alien males and females chosen for health, intelligence, and drive. Spectra's geneticists would screen for the genetic conditions that crippled the True Race, and either fix or cull the fetuses. With selective manipulation, they could ensure that the resulting children were healthy and showed few overt signs of their alien heritage. If they did this properly, within a few generations, the True Race would be renewed, with no outward signs of alien genes.

If only they could do the same for their dying world. But that was why they wanted the Federation.

"You've probably left a number of bastards, already," she had told him. "You are insatiable when the mood strikes you. Use that for your world."

He remembered the first time he'd seen her, when their father had brought her to be Presented to the Luminous One. She was his age, and he had resented her for stealing his special day. He had thought he would be the only one Presented. The real insult had been her alien eyes, the white sclera and round irises and pupils of an alien race. But the Luminous One spoke, and he had to accept it. Now, he loved her like the full-blood sister he never had.

But he could not bring himself to do this. It was one thing to amuse himself, especially with prisoners, but he could not, _could not_ get an heir on an alien (or even a Spectra servant). _A fine representative of the longest-ruling dynasty in Spectra's history_, he thought. _Can't bring myself to do what needs doing for my own people_.

Mala would find a way around his revulsion. Perhaps she already had. Her assassins were quite willing to accommodate his more ordinary demands. How many had volunteered to be the mothers of the next generation of the family?

Or would the next Emperor be born to her? She was dedicated to Spectra's survival.

"What are you thinking, Brother?" she asked.

"How humbling and inspiring your devotion to our world is. You shame me."

"You serve the Luminous One well. Even the most patriotic citizens have their limits." She smiled at him. "Or you simply have not found the one you deem worthy of your attentions."

"Have you?"

"I have some possibilities. Some are not even our subjects. Federation people who will have a value beyond the genetic. Propaganda value when we take the Federation for ourselves."

That would be a short list, and he had a good idea of who was on it. "You always did have excellent taste in your toys."

"Thank you."

He felt the summons in his head. "The Luminous One calls me. Your suggestion is a good one. If the Spirit is in the mood, I will speak of it." The Luminous Spirit could be testy. Even a good idea could be rejected if the being was in a poor mood to listen.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

The Solar Express pulled out of the station on its maiden trip. Mala smiled politely at the man across from her. Peter Anderson, the Federation's Chief of Security, the man behind Spectra's recent defeats. The founder of G-Force. Her target.

When she had learned he was on the guest list for the Earth-circling maglev's first trip, she knew how he would die. Not with a bullet, or poison, or a stiletto in the ribs, but in a purported terrorist attack. There were paranoid humans who saw the New World Order behind just about everything. A train full of the rich, famous, and important would be a tempting target. How insulting that one of the most powerful men in the Federation government would fall victim to losers. How many resources would they waste chasing their tails?

It was a shame, she mused. She would have preferred to capture and break him to her will. He had vital information inside his head, and was a handsome fellow for a human.

The young man with him was familiar, but she could not quite place his face. Well-built for a mere test pilot.

Small talk, with mild flirting. People could be so foolish. A coy head-turn, a light innuendo, and it never occurred to them that you were an assassin.

When Anderson invited her to dinner, his associate took his leave. Too bad they would both die this day. She could have had some fun leading Anderson into her trap.

Ah, well. "Excuse me," she said. "I'll be right back." As she walked, she signaled Lana to begin the attack. _Don't screw up, or I will kill you._

She found the young man in the flexible corridor between cars, looking out the window, right at the _Devilstar_. Before he could spot her reflection, she knocked him out. A couple of blasts with her phase pistol began the car separation. He would fall free and die as he tumbled down the mountainside, an early victim of the terrorists. The train's wreckage would conceal the cause of the separation.

Back to Anderson. The point-and-shoots should be in place by now.

The train lurched as the rear section separated.

The robots had him at gunpoint. He had risen from his seat, and was looking for a way to escape. The other passengers were too surprised to even bluster about their importance. "Kill them," she ordered. "Anderson, you might as well sit down. There's still a little time before you die."

He sat, remaining ready for his opportunity. Undefeated. Admirable. Even better, no whining over the loss of innocent lives. He was angry. She wondered why people did that. Did they think she would be swayed by such appeals?

The lights went out as the train entered a tunnel. Damn idiots in the cockpit.

When they emerged, the lights came on and blinded her. When her eyes recovered, the Eagle sat in Anderson's place. Before she could see his face, the G-Force leader attacked the robots, disabling them within seconds.

If the Eagle was here, so was G-Force. Damn it. The assassination team probably had its hands full. She dodged and blocked the Eagle's attacks, waiting for the chance to either kill Anderson or escape. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him pick up a rifle and brandish it like an expert. Enemies on two sides.

Outside the window, she recognized the valley. The rigged trestle. If the assassins had accomplished their task, it was time to go.

The train shot over the trestle just before the explosives detonated. Too late, but it gave her a lead as her opponents stumbled.

She ran for the emergency trap in the ceiling and opened it before the Eagle reached her.

Damn, the wind! She braced herself on the maglev roof, angling her body sideways to keep from blowing off. The Eagle wasn't in much better shape. His glide-cape was proving a liability, tugging him so that he had to keep shifting his feet for balance.

Up ahead, she saw three rocket-cars line up on the track at the alternate strike point. A deep mountain lake here, marshy along the edges.

The assassins died in their explosions, seconds before the Swan could reach them.

The _Devilstar_ closed with her.

Any mocking last words would be wasted in the wind. She leaped up, caught the ladder that extended out of the _Devilstar_, and watched the first few cars of the train rush into the lake water as she climbed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

She had failed. Anderson had survived. The Luminous One did not punish her as severely as it could have, but she still hurt afterwards. It was wise, and knew that not every mission succeeded. There was still time to deal with Anderson. They could use her attack to gauge the Federation's responses. If they could not kill, perhaps they could intimidate and annoy the Federation government into mistakes that would give Spectra the advantage.

This was the difference between her and Z'ólt'ár. He was intelligent, and able, but he could not always salvage anything useful from a failed operation. She had seen the Luminous One's points even before the Spirit had made them.

She had a plan of her own. Killing Anderson, while useful, was a waste of a valuable resource. Better to capture and break him. Let the Federation see her break him to her will. Use his knowledge against the very people he protected. If she broke him properly, he would willingly betray everyone.

The Luminous One agreed.

All the information on Anderson told her that he had other desirable qualities, as well. Strength of will, intelligence, drive, and leadership abilities. Qualities the family needed if they were to lead Spectra to renewed glory.

The Eagle, as leader of G-Force, had a place on her list of possible sires for her offspring. The Condor was a possible, also. There would be the challenge and pleasure of making them her slaves, besides.

One thing she would ensure: any child of hers would at least have the eyes of the True Race. She hated the exposed whiteness and the round irises and pupils of alien eyes. Proper eyes were solid-colored, with vertical slits for pupils. Her child would look Spectran. Her child would _be_ Spectran.

Spectra would win this war. The True Race would resume its place in the galaxy. House nâl Afés'trin would ensure that.


End file.
